Sleeping habits
by cutiesonthehorizon
Summary: Three times Tomas and Marcus shared a bed (out of need) and 1 time (because they wanted to)


_A/N: Written for The Exorcist Fanworks Exchange organized by the awesome Darling. Beta-read by the wonderful Starrylizard. As always, all mistakes left are my own. My first attempt at a light Tomarcus, because you were the one who corrupted me_ Gaia _:) I hope you enjoy:)_

* * *

 **Sleeping habits**

 **or**

 **Three times Tomas and Marcus shared a bed (out of need) and 1 time (because they wanted to)**

Marcus Keane had only two modes of sharing a bed. He either kicked you till you were blue and hit the floor, or he snuggled up to you as if he never wanted to let go. It was funny though that it was Tomas Ortega who had to find that out first... before even Marcus himself.

It started innocuously, on their second month on the road. Up to that point they always managed to get a room with two beds and the most Tomas had to deal with was the occasional snoring pulling him from his sleep. Usually throwing a pillow Marcus' way was enough to stop that. This time however they didn't have much of a choice... Bennett had just called giving Marcus directions to check out a new case down near Dallas. Bennett wasn't sure if there was really a case of possession or just a teenager trying to solve their problems by acting out. He was still waiting on final word from the local priest, but seeing as Tomas and Marcus were currently unoccupied, he sent them out on a merry ride. Which meant they still had an almost two day ride ahead of them when they hit a rather bad rainstorm. Seeing as there was no real rush, Marcus pulled into the parking lot of a motel they were passing by at the time that had a green vacancy sign. The wind and the rain were pelting down on them and by the time the two exorcists crossed into the motel lobby, they were drenched to the skin, teeth chattering.

"We need a room, two beds," Marcus stated, dripping water on the carpet and ignoring the glare from the clerk. Tomas tried for an apologetic smile, but as he brushed the wet hair out of his face he managed to flick some of the water at the desk. The clerk glared more.

"I'm afraid we have only one room left, with one king sized bed."

"Does it have a cot or a couch?" Tomas asked, trying to sound friendly. The clerk's eyes ran over both of them, zoning in on the puddle in front of his desk and a wet splotch on the sign-in papers that was caused by Tomas. There was a glint in his eyes and a smirk that could only be called gleeful.

"I'm sorry, we ran out of those as well. There's just one bed." It was clear from the way the clerk said it that he was anything but sorry. Tomas sighed and looked at Marcus, who was trying to shake the water out of his ear.

"If you want to sit in the car in wet clothes, be my guest," Marcus said with a smirk of his own, "but I'm taking that room. As long as there's a working shower?" he turned towards the clerk, whose smirk lost some of the spark upon seeing Marcus' unbothered look.

"Of course, sir. Our showers are in working order."

That was it then. They paid for the room, grabbed the keys and the next thing Tomas knew he heard the slam of the bathroom door as Marcus called dibs for first shower. With a sigh, Tomas threw his backpack on the chair and looked around the room. It was small but clean at least. There was a TV and two chairs and a table... but most of the space was occupied by the king-sized bed. Tomas looked at it and thought the clerk was an idiot if he thought this would ruin their day. The bed was big enough for three people if they squeezed a bit in. Tomas was sure he wouldn't even notice Marcus being so close by. And there was the bonus of not having to throw any pillows in case Marcus started snoring... Tomas could just kick him in the shin. That idea left a smile on his face even as Marcus exited the bathroom through a cloud of steam.

"I would shower quickly, not sure how much warm water I left," Marcus commented even as he ran the towel over his cropped hair. Tomas' smile was replaced with a benevolent grimace and a sigh. Of course, he should've expected that. When he finished the lukewarm shower that turned cold towards the end, Tomas found that Marcus was already stretched out on the bed like a cat, right on top of the covers. He was eating an apple and Tomas was of half mind to pester him for that, but then thought better the apple than the granola bar they had bought at the gas station. Last thing he wanted was to share a bed not only with Marcus but also food crumbs.

Glaring and trying not to shiver because the shower was anything but warm, Tomas crawled under the covers on his side of the bed and turned off the bedside lamp. Marcus slowly finished the apple and Tomas thought he would just turn in for the night as well, but then there was the familiar crinkle of the cellophane.

"Don't you even dare," Tomas turned around with a growl just in time to see Marcus ripping open the package, eyes wide and surprised like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Jeez Louise... who pissed in your cornflakes today?" Marcus asked and rolled his eyes, but had the decency to look a bit abashed when Tomas' eyes followed the broken off piece of granola falling down on the top of the cover. With a huff, Marcus grabbed the piece and popped it into his mouth, smirking at the grimace that appeared on Tomas' face.

"If you snore, I swear I'll smother you with a pillow," Tomas grumbled warningly, then turned and burrowed his head in the pillow, pulling the covers up to his ears to muffle the sound of Marcus' chewing the granola bar.

Tomas got exactly two hours of sleep and that was only thanks to the fact that Marcus spent an hour of it scribbling onto a sketchpad before he fell asleep. Then all hell broke loose... or at least that's what Tomas thought when he felt something kick him in the shin with such force that sent him rolling. Tomas startled right out of sleep, confused and heart beating as if something was chasing him. It took him a second to realize he was in a bed... one he shared with Marcus and it was indeed his leg that was trying to take over the side of the bed where Tomas currently resided. Tomas let out a groan and rubbed at his face tiredly. Of course, Marcus couldn't be a still sleeper... he was barely still when he was awake. Why should sleep make any difference?

Tomas blinked through the darkness and moved his own leg, pushing against Marcus' foot and trying to move it out of his part of the bed. The foot moved away easily enough and Tomas turned to his side, thinking maybe that was just a fluke. Five minutes later, Marcus' heel dug into the back of Tomas' calf and Tomas had to grab the edge of his bed to save himself from rolling off of it.

"What the hell?" he asked out loud. Marcus only grumbled something under his breath and stretched in such a way that positioned him into the middle of the bed, effectively pushing Tomas to the edge. With a growl, Tomas sat up in the bed and, using his hands, rolled Marcus back onto his side of the bed. For a better measure, he even put one of the pillows between them as sort of a wall. Through all this, Marcus barely even twitched and, at one point, Tomas could swear he heard a soft snore. Shaking his head, he lay back and waited. He could hear Marcus breathing deeply and calmly... no movement. Tomas' heart started to relax, his own breathing unconsciously copying that of Marcus. He was almost back to the land of Morpheus when Marcus moved. Tomas' eyes snapped open, he was now anticipating a kick, but it didn't come. Marcus just turned so he was now lying on his back, his right arm resting on the pillow that was separating them. Letting out a sigh and frowning at the thought that by the end of the night Marcus would have him trained like a damn dog, Tomas closed his eyes and fell asleep.

It didn't last. By the time morning rolled over, Tomas was more tired than before he went to bed. By four in the morning he started kicking back and managed to wake Marcus up, however the older man just glared at him, stole the pillow that was between them and turned on his stomach. Only to shimmy back and successfully push Tomas off the bed. With a growl, Tomas grabbed the covers and his one measly pillow and decided that staying on the floor was preferable to being constantly attacked.

As he was sipping his morning coffee and sitting down in the truck, feeling the bruises on his legs, Tomas decided that this was the first and also the last time he shared a bed with Marcus.

o-o-o

That resolution lasted about three weeks, when they finished an exorcism involving a ten-year-old boy that looked a bit too much like Luis. It was harsh, it was bloody and it almost ended badly. Luckily, the boy was a fighter and together they managed to cast out the demon. But it left the boy in a bad shape, which meant they needed to beat a hasty retreat. Tomas thought he would never get used to that part of the life as an exorcist... the need to leave before the authorities arrive. While thanks to Bennett these exorcisms were sanctioned by the Vatican, that sanction was rather questionable, and Tomas knew that if any Church officials caught up with them he would be served his excommunication papers before he could even blink. So once the demon was gone and they made sure the boy was alive and free..they got into the truck and left town.

Of course, spending the last few days locked up in a room with a demon had left them dirty, tired and bruised. As they had been trying to stop the demon from hurting the child physically both Marcus and Tomas were thrown against the wall or the closet at least once and it was obvious they needed to shower, eat and crash. Not necessarily in that order, although a shower was high on Tomas' priorities. When Marcus blinked and the car swerved a bit, Tomas didn't care whether they were far enough from the town.

"We need to stop, Marcus," he said and was a bit surprised to get a simple nod in answer. Marcus was just about done in. They pulled over at the first motel they saw and Tomas, who looked more presentable of the two of them walked up to the desk, while Marcus walked over to the vending machine and started picking out snacks. Tomas was already seeing himself in bed and asleep, when the clerk told him with a sheepish look on his face that they only had one room left and that had a king-sized bed. Tomas blinked, then rubbed at his eyes, remembering clearly the first time he and Marcus shared a bed. The bruises took over a week to heal and it took Tomas just as long not to twitch on his bed every time he heard Marcus move in his sleep. He was of half a mind to just turn and drive them to another motel or maybe offer to sleep in the truck. But then he looked back at Marcus who was eyeing the armchair in the lobby in a way that told Tomas he would be curled up inside it and fast asleep within the next two minutes if he didn't do something.

With a sigh, Tomas took the keys to the room, hoping that Marcus was too tired to have the energy to kick him off the bed tonight. Or maybe he could just make himself comfortable on the floor right away...

"You want to shower first?" Marcus asked when he saw the king-sized bed and realized that Tomas was ready to sacrifice his sleep just so they could get some rest. Marcus knew what a sacrifice it was, because Tomas made sure to remind him about that 'horrible' night each time he saw the bruises on his legs. Maybe if he could stay awake a bit longer, Tomas could get at least some sleep. At least that was what Marcus thought.

Tomas on the other hand was thinking that if he went to take the shower first, he would find Marcus asleep on the bed... stinking of dirt, sweat and other bodily fluids that weren't worth mentioning. So, he shook his head and pushed the man towards the bathroom with an imploring look.

"I'm not sharing a bed with you while you smell like vomit."

Marcus snorted.

"As if you smell of lilacs," he said, but didn't protest as he vanished behind the door. This time when Tomas took the shower he was surprised to find the water was still burning hot. Either they had hit a better motel or Marcus was trying to be nice to him. Seeing the peeling painting on the corner of the bathroom wall, Tomas thought the latter was the more probable answer. He didn't really ponder the question though as the hot spray hit the back of his neck and Tomas felt the tension slowly leaving his body. He focused on the water, watching it wash away all the dirt and grime of the last few days and wished it could do the same with the images of the possessed boy in his head. Or the fact that each time he closed his eyes he saw Luis in his place, spewing angry, hateful words his way. The worst thing was that Tomas wasn't even sure if the Luis in his mind was possessed or simply angry at his uncle for leaving him.

Maybe sharing a bed with Marcus this night wasn't the worst thing, Tomas thought as he stepped out of the shower and toweled himself off, trying to ignore some of the bruises that were evidence of the demon's strength. Tomas was pretty sure there would be nightmares plaguing him... there always were after a case, even an easy one. And this one hit a bit too close to home. A kick in the shin might be just the thing to not let him succumb to the terrors his mind was sure to bring up.

When he came out of the bathroom, Marcus was sitting by the table, eating from the pack of chips he bought from the vending machine and reading an old magazine someone left in the bedside table. He looked up at Tomas and then threw him a pack of unopened chips. Tomas caught it, looked at the label on the back and decided he'd rather wait till morning for a proper breakfast. He wasn't that hungry anyway.

"Nice of you not to get crumbs in the bed," Tomas said with a small grin as he put the chips down and sat on the edge of the bed, yawning. Marcus rolled his eyes.

"It's not worth listening to your moaning about it," he shrugged, then turned back to his magazine.

"I didn't moan. I was just commenting."

Marcus snorted, not even deigning it worth a reply.

"I thought you were dead on your feet," Tomas said after a moment, seeing that Marcus wasn't about to get into the bed.

"I took a cold shower so you wouldn't complain about lack of hot water," Marcus said with another smirk and Tomas opened his mouth to protest the accusation. "It woke me right up," Marcus added with a wave of his hand.

"Come on, I know you must be tired at least as much as me, if not more. I bet you're too tired to even kick me off."

"I'm used to this you know. Forty years of experience and all. You're still just a newbie," Marcus said and Tomas would've bristled at that if not for the playful tone. "Get some shut eye."

"Well, I can hardly sleep with the lights on and the sound of the paper turning," Tomas protested after several minutes, sitting up in the bed and looking at Marcus just in time to see his head being laid down on the desk, eyes closed.

"Oh, for the love of..." Tomas grabbed a pillow and threw it right at Marcus, who startled awake, glaring.

"Stop being a bloody idiot and get in the bed!"

"Well if you're asking so nicely darling, how can I say no?" Marcus replied and threw the pillow back at Tomas, hitting him in the chest. Tomas rolled his eyes and once again put the pillow between them.

Despite lying down in the bed, once the lights were turned off, Marcus was trying to fight off sleep. Not only for Tomas' sake but also his own. While Tomas was sure to be seeing Luis in the boy they saved, Marcus saw Gabriel and his own failings. Tomas wasn't the only one who was going to face nightmares this night and Marcus was hoping to keep his own at bay for as long as possible. He managed to stave off sleep with running over his prayers in Aramaic, then Latin and then in Spanish. He was on the verge of sleep when he heard a whimper coming from the lump on the other side of the bed. There were barely perceptible words and Tomas moved restlessly, Luis' name on his lips even as he flinched, as if hit by some invisible force.

Marcus wasn't sure what to do. On one side he wanted to wake him up, on the other, Tomas needed all the sleep he could get. Marcus also wasn't sure how Tomas would react to being touched in a moment such as this. Biting his lip, Marcus waited and observed, at least muttering soothing words even though they had no effect. When Tomas whimpered again however, Marcus decided sleep was overrated. He reached out towards the younger man, touching his shoulder. He wasn't sure what he expected... either Tomas lashing out or simply waking up. He really didn't expect him to turn towards him and burrow his head in the crook of Marcus' arm, latching on as if it was the only thing keeping him alive.

Marcus froze in surprise. What the hell was he supposed to do now? One of his arms was trapped beneath Tomas, so he reached out with the other to gently pat the younger man on the face to wake him up or push him away. But Tomas was like a leech... the moment he felt the warmth of Marcus' touch, he threw his arm over Marcus' chest, his palm resting right over Marcus heart. Which must've stopped at some point, Marcus was pretty sure. He wasn't used to this... to such close contact. Sure, he loved to touch everything, people included. He was a tactile person as far as his memory reached. But the only hugs and touches he really got were from people he saved, from their thankful relatives. And they never felt this intimate.

For a second, he debated pushing Tomas away, to just grab the pillows and sleep on the floor tonight. But he couldn't force his body to move; because despite the strangeness of the contact, it also felt good. He could feel his own heartbeat under Tomas' palm and the weight of it on his chest was the only thing he could think about. The images of Gabriel and the boy they saved were pushed into the background and as he felt Tomas' breath on the skin of his arm, Marcus found himself adjusting his own breathing to the same rhythm. Which had noticeably calmed down in the last few minutes, Marcus noted with some surprise.

"God, what am I supposed to do with this?" Marcus asked, pointing the question towards the deity whose voice was his compass for the last forty years but who seemed to be deaf to his questions now. As expected, God didn't answer. But Tomas let out a sigh and snuggled closer to Marcus. Marcus' breath caught... he was expecting any second now a thunderbolt would strike him down, but nothing happened. He was waiting for a sign, trying to convince his body to move and break off the contact, but his body was just like God these last months... silent and ignoring his pleas.

With a sigh of his own, Marcus decided to let Tomas have at least a bit of rest. The contact seemed to calm him down, to push away the nightmares. Marcus didn't have the heart to deny him that little reprieve. Or to himself. He would let Tomas rest for half an hour, then push him back to his side of the bed and never speak about this again. Or on the contrary, he would tease the hell out of Tomas, depending on what mood they both woke up in. Decided on the course of action, Marcus closed his eyes, pushed back all thoughts and doubts and just focused on the weight on his chest and listened to the breathing. He fell asleep long before the allotted half hour ran out.

Tomas woke up to the light coming in through the half open blinds and hitting him right in the face. Scrunching up his eyes, Tomas turned his face, only to realize his head wasn't resting on a pillow anymore. Blinking, he wondered if Marcus managed to knock him off the bed without him noticing, but that wouldn't explain the heartbeat under his palm that wasn't his own, the bony yet muscled arm under his head, or why he was pressed flush against Marcus Keane, who was currently fast asleep.

Tomas swallowed, thanking God and all the saints that Marcus was asleep. He just hoped that was the fact even before he snuggled up to the older man as if he was some damsel in distress. Slowly, ever so slowly, Tomas tried to extricate himself, praying that Marcus stayed asleep and this would just stay in Tomas' mind.

He almost managed to pull away, but the moment he lifted his hand from Marcus' chest, the other man frowned in his sleep and the arm under Tomas' head curled, pulling him closer into Marcus' embrace. Tomas' eyes widened. He could've sworn at that moment he heard Marcus growl out a word that sounded eerily similar to ' _mine'_.

Blinking, Tomas settled back into the embrace and as if sensing he wasn't about to flee, Marcus' hold on him relaxed a bit too. Tomas closed his eyes, thinking over his options. Right now, any attempt at extricating himself ended in Marcus turning overprotective and pulling him closer. If Tomas kept trying he would either wake up the other man while they were effectively embracing, or get his ribs crushed from the tight grip. Tomas didn't want to risk either and to be frank, the position he was in right now wasn't even the most uncomfortable. It definitely beat having his shin kicked every five minutes. It looked like Marcus Keane either took you for an enemy and kicked the hell out of you or adopted you like a stray cat and wouldn't let go. Tomas preferred the second option, so he let out a sigh, let his hand fall back on Marcus' chest and fell back into light slumber. When he woke up the second time, Marcus was already up and rustling in the bathroom. Tomas was a bit dismayed at realizing he missed the warmth under his hand.

o-o-o

Third time's the charm or so they say, Tomas thought as he was trying to find a comfortable place on the bed, while also staying as far away from Marcus as possible. He wasn't sure in what position they were in when Marcus woke up that morning a week ago and Tomas didn't dare to ask. To Marcus' question about how he slept, Tomas just shrugged his shoulders and said okay. He tried not to think too hard about the peculiar look on Marcus' face or about the strange feeling of longing inside his chest when next night they got a room with two beds, separated by what seemed to be a whole mile.

Now they were once again sharing a bed, this time thanks to some agricultural conference being held in a town that was proud of its produce, especially corn. There were corn fields all around, corn bread for breakfast, corn for lunch and corny jokes all over the motel lobby. Tomas was pleading with the clerk to get them a room, any kind of room, at least until the morning. They needed to stay in town until the next day to get their truck released from hold, where it had been towed to during their wannabe exorcism. Wannabe, because it was all a huge scam, just a game of a few teenagers turning very bad, very quickly. Tomas was just happy all he and Marcus got were a few bruises, because two hours ago they both faced an angry father armed with a shotgun, pointing it right at their faces. It took a lot of explaining, some fine praying to the deity above and a tackle that any American football player would've been proud of. Luckily there were no serious injuries and no threat of the cops getting involved. The only problem was that by the time Tomas and Marcus resolved the mess inside the house, some good soul got their car impounded for parking in the wrong place. Marcus cursed when he saw the sign, now in clear view but earlier covered from their sight by a parked van. That's how they ended up in this motel - grumpy and both dead on their feet. It was the third one they tried, the last two sending them away even before they could ask for a room.

"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth," was all Marcus said when he saw the bed and for once Tomas didn't argue. He was frustrated and still slightly shaken by their latest case. It was bad enough when a real demon chose its victim, but why would anyone sane try and reenact a possession, down to its sickest parts? And to find out it was all a staged prank that could have ended with them dead... Tomas was indeed furious. Sometimes he kept wondering what they were even doing, if people were really even worth saving. But he knew that was just the stress talking.

"Okay, I heard there's a special on the tap beer at the pub down the street. Or we can just grab a bottle of the moonshine those conference goers were sloshed on and get ourselves properly drunk," Marcus spoke after watching Tomas pace the room without clear purpose. It was still a bit early to hit the sack and they both needed to unwind a bit. Tomas paused, a frown on his face.

"I'm still a priest, I shouldn't be getting 'properly' drunk," he said and Marcus snorted.

"That's what's bothering you? Two hours ago, you were tackling down a pissed off guy with a gun, cause his kids decided to act out. We're essentially exorcising demons against the Church's orders, but you think God will have a problem with you getting sloshed?"

Tomas rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the pang of guilt Marcus' words stirred up. Yes, they were doing things they shouldn't be doing, but really with the state the Church was in right now, they didn't have much of a choice. Chicago was evidence enough of that. But Tomas didn't want to talk about that, or even think about it. So, he shook his head.

"I don't think God would have a problem with me getting drunk... as much as I would. I don't want the hangover that drinking with you can cause."

Marcus raised an eyebrow and his lips quirked up in a smile.

"Well then, why don't _I_ get drunk for the both of us, while you sip and wallow with your one beer?"

And that was exactly what happened. Well, Tomas managed to wallow with two beers and by the second one it wasn't as much of a wallowing as he would've expected. He grumbled and talked while Marcus nodded and listened, sometimes helping out with a snarky reply or a reference from his homeland that Tomas couldn't understand. They laughed and they played some pool and by the time they returned to the motel room, the anger in Tomas was replaced by simple weariness.

Marcus crashed on the bed, and Tomas was happy he managed to at least coax him out of his shoes, pants and shirt before he heard the unmistakable sound of snoring. Sighing, Tomas put a bottle of water and some aspirin on the bedside table, ready in case Marcus woke up in the middle of the night with a hangover. He also grabbed some water and relaxed into the bed, hoping the night would allow both of them some rest at least.

His hopes were quashed quite early in the night as Marcus' heel found Tomas' calf with surprising certainty as well as force. Tomas groaned and moved his leg just in time to avoid another kick as Marcus seemed to travel across the bed. For a man that supposedly didn't run, Marcus' legs were moving a lot during sleep. There was no way Tomas could wake him up now and he didn't want to anyway. Tomas eyed the two armchairs across the room... maybe he could make himself comfortable there...

He was about to sit up and move, thinking at least Marcus wouldn't have to wake up the next morning with Tomas wrapped around him like a tortilla. Tomas was still blushing at the thought of what must've gone through Marcus' mind, but luckily the older man either didn't take notice or simply didn't care. Tomas wasn't sure if he felt relief or a bit hurt about the fact Marcus hadn't said a thing about it. Now that he thought about it however, Tomas realized that he didn't get kicked even once that night. And he slept like a lug too.

Marcus muttered something under his breath and scooted backwards, closer to Tomas. As if in a sign. Tomas bit his lip then threw caution to the wind. He would give his theory a try; he had nothing to lose after all. The worst that would happen was Marcus clocking him on the nose. If anything, he could always write it off as being drunk and clingy.

Carefully, Tomas scooted a bit closer to Marcus, who was already trying to take over his half of the bed anyway. Tomas pulled his pillow along and stopped only when he felt Marcus' back brushing against his own. Tomas froze a bit then slowly relaxed as Marcus didn't seem to wake. He took a few deeper breaths and let them slowly out slowly, trying to calm down his heart that had for some stupid reason chosen that moment to start racing. Tomas was categorically refusing to think about the fact it might've been caused by the shiver that run through his body when his back touched Marcus. Nope, he wasn't thinking about that.

At least that was his decision, and he was proud he managed to keep it until the morning, which came surprisingly fast. Tomas blinked his eyes open at the early hour he used to wake up in Chicago for his morning run, but lately it was mostly used to get some much needed sleep as he took up his role of an exorcist.

Tomas yawned and reached out for his watch on the bedside table, when he felt a pull of an arm across his chest. That's when he remembered his last night's decision to scoot back to Marcus. Well, it seemed to work... he slept through the whole night, without being kicked once... or even without a nightmare, as far as Tomas could remember. And as far as Tomas knew he also didn't wrap himself around Marcus like a tortilla. Yet here they were, in the early morning, Marcus' arms wrapped tightly over Tomas' chest, his legs touching Tomas' and Marcus' nose buried in the nape of Tomas' neck, puffing out soft breaths at regular intervals. Tomas realized that Marcus was essentially spooning him and he blushed and wondered how he didn't wake up earlier. He also stayed still and didn't move an inch because damn if it wasn't a comfortable position. It felt warm and safe, protective. It felt like something Tomas was missing dearly and it hurt his heart to realize he hadn't felt this way for way too long. Tomas closed his eyes tightly, willing away the longing to stay wrapped in those arms forever. He knew it was foolish, knew it was against God's will... knew it would be used against him. Most of all, he knew that once Marcus woke up, it would be over, that this was all just a mistake born of too much alcohol and too little company.

Despite all of these thoughts, Tomas didn't try to move away. If anything, he leaned back a little, shivering as Marcus' breath caught and he muttered something incomprehensible into his neck. It felt like lightning running down his spine and Tomas was already saying his prayers, asking for forgiveness, admitting his faults, his most grievous faults. But he didn't move away and he didn't wake up Marcus. He kept his eyes closed, fingers of one hand tracing soft circles over the hand laid across his chest as he fell back into dreamless sleep.

Tomas was pretty sure Marcus wasn't aware of the effect sleeping in one bed had on Tomas. Maybe Marcus didn't even realize they were cuddling, for all Tomas knew, the older man might've just rolled away from him before he woke up. He certainly didn't mention anything, not even a smirk on his face. Though that might've had something to do with the fact Marcus was fighting off a hangover and the first words out of his mouth were 'I'm never drinking again'. Which made Tomas laugh, as he had heard those words before, and also feel some relief because it meant Marcus didn't remember a thing. It was sad that the relief was accompanied also by a pang of pain, but Tomas decided to ignore it for as long as possible, hoping it would eventually go away.

While Tomas was thinking Marcus didn't remember, it couldn't be further from the truth. Marcus was quite aware of what had transpired that night... he remembered feeling Tomas scooting back and the touch, almost electric, made him come out of his alcohol induced stupor. Well, at least it made him aware. When a while later he'd felt Tomas shift restlessly against him and let out a small choked off sound, caught in the beginnings of a nightmare, Marcus didn't hesitate to turn around and embrace the younger man in a safety cocoon, taking in the smell of his aftershave and sweat and wondering what the hell he was doing. But Tomas calmed in his arms and there was no way Marcus would do anything to disturb his sleep.

o-o-o

Marcus would swear that Bennett was trying to use the fact that Tomas still needed to learn things to try to cram as many exorcisms back to back as he was capable. When this latest one ended, even Marcus felt on the verge of burn out and he was pretty much used to this kind of life. So, he decided that if Bennett called in the next week with anything other than just thanking them for a job well done, he would throw away his phone and go on a shopping binge with the card Bennett provided them for urgent expenses. Right now, he was about to use that card to get them a proper room at a proper hotel, with room service and all that shit. It wasn't like Marcus wanted to spend the extra buck, but they were in that kind of a town where you either get a good hotel or a very sleazy motel that ran a risk of being infested with bed bugs, cockroaches and an occasional murder. Taking one look at the barely standing Tomas who was swaying next to him in front of the hotel reception desk and looking for all the world like he was fighting off a migraine, Marcus thought it was worth the extra bill to Bennett's name.

The girl behind the desk was young and all too chipper. She was checking the available rooms and trying to chat up Tomas at the same time, but the younger man seemed ignorant. Well, he looked more like he would be spewing whatever food he ate in the next minute, squinting in the overhead light. When he suddenly swayed and leaned against the counter hard, Marcus automatically reached out, putting a steadying hand on his back. Tomas let out a sigh and leaned into the touch, giving a small nod of thanks.

The girl at the counter stopped talking, giving them both a strange look and Marcus could swear she had a light bulb moment as her mouth turned into the 'Oh!' shape. The wide smile was back on her face though as she turned and this time aimed her question at Marcus.

"You're in luck, we have several rooms left. Would you like a double or a king-sized bed?" She smiled and Marcus blinked, giving it a thought. One look at Tomas told him this might be a hard night for the younger man, as well as for himself. There was nothing wrong with wanting to feel someone's presence after the day they had. Deep inside Marcus knew the reasons were selfish, but he couldn't stop himself. They both needed a good night's rest and God, he was still supporting Tomas with his hand, so who was he kidding?

"King-sized is fine, darling," he replied to the girl with a smile, and ignored the confused look Tomas was throwing his way. He just gave him a slight shake of his head. Tomas blinked, but seemed to accept that as Marcus took the keys and bid good night to the girl.

That night they turned off the light and said goodnight, both too tired to try and pretend their only thought wasn't to fall into the soft blankets and pillows. But once there, under the disguise of the darkness Marcus became aware of the too deep breathing next to his side. Tomas was obviously trying to fight back the headache by some breathing exercise, but Marcus had a feeling it wouldn't work. He needed sleep first and foremost. Marcus also knew Tomas wouldn't get any if all he was going to focus on was the headache. Funnily, Tomas must've came to the same conclusion as Marcus felt the bed dip a bit and Tomas turned on his side, now looking at Marcus' profile cast in the light of the billboard from behind their window. Marcus could feel the eyes watching him, could hear the breathing almost stop when he turned his head and reached out, gently nudging Tomas' arm with his own.

This shouldn't have felt so awkward, so scary to both of them, but it did. It was the first time they were both awake and so even though he wanted to, Tomas hesitated to move any closer.

"You okay?" Marcus asked, because he felt the shiver run through Tomas' arm, through his whole body.

"I don't want to dream tonight," Tomas spoke, his voice soft, hesitant... pleading. "You make the nightmares go away," he admitted, sounding at once ashamed but also wistful and Marcus turned on his side so now they were facing each other. His hand left Tomas' arm and patted the empty space between them.

"Come here then," Marcus said, waiting. Tomas hesitated, but then he shifted and soon he found himself being enveloped in a hug, in a position much similar to the one Tomas woke up in a few weeks back. This time though his head was resting on Marcus' chest, straight over his heart while there was an arm running soothingly up and down his back. Tomas took in the older man's scent and almost physically felt some of the headache leaving his body.

"Nothing wrong with this," Marcus whispered, his breath brushing over Tomas' hair and Tomas let himself be lulled by those words, the lilt of the voice. "I'm happy to chase away the nightmares."

"Thank you," Tomas whispered and fell asleep.

They both knew this was something more than just chasing away bad dreams. This was a road that could lead them straight to hell, be it the manipulation of demons or the wrath of God. In the moment though they didn't care. All they needed was in that hotel room, a person by their side they could trust, a person that saw the worst of them yet still stayed. A person that made their hearts swell and push away the darkness that was lurking behind every corner. For Marcus, that person was Tomas and if the younger man had been awake, he would've shared the sentiment. But Tomas was already out like a light and as Marcus put a soft kiss on the top of that thick black mop of hair, he followed suit.


End file.
